


All Hail the Serpent King

by southsidewrites



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Comedy, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Funny, Gen, Humor, Jughead as Serpent King, Serpent Meeting, The Southside Serpents, bromace, the whyte wyrm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidewrites/pseuds/southsidewrites
Summary: Ever since he’s been Serpent King, Jughead Jones has worked hard to be a good leader to his gang.  One way he’s done that is the Open Forum, a monthly opportunity for the Serpents to express their feelings about how the gang is being run.  However, five years into his role as Serpent King, the Forum has spiraled completely out of control.





	All Hail the Serpent King

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for checking this out!! Written for Day Two of @buggiebreak's Southside Showcase.

“And it looks like that concludes all the official items on the agenda,” Jughead said, tiredly looking up from his clipboard.  Like all things Serpent, it had the logo of a double-headed snake stamped in green ink on the back. “Which means it’s time for the open forum.”

Off to the side, F.P. was sitting at the bar nursing a coke.  As soon as Jughead announced the open forum, he snickered, grabbing the soda hose and pouring himself another.  Around the bar, everyone else was cheering and laughing—this was their favorite part of the monthly meetings.  It had been an addition Jughead made in his first year as Serpent King nearly five years earlier.  At its inception, it had been a way to get more members involved.  What it had turned into was a sort of public way to talk shit about each other in front of the entire gang.

Jughead gave his father a pointed look. “Let’s all remember that the open forum is a way for you, the initiated members of the Southside Serpents, to air any concerns, complaints, or comments.” He looked out at the crowd of leather-clad gang members crowded into the Whyte Wyrm as if daring them not to have any concerns, complaints, or comments. “Each member may bring one issue to the table, and anything else will have to wait for next month.” Sighing, he sat down on a stool, pen in hand. “With that, let’s get started.  Does anyone have any items they would like to raise to the group?”

“I do!” F.P. called, kicking his legs up onto a separate stool to relax even more fully. “I would like to initiate a formal audit of Sweet Pea’s spending habits, or lack thereof, at the Wyrm.”

“What are you talking about, old man?” Sweet Pea demanded.  He had a beer clutched in his hand, and the blonde woman at his side couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I spend plenty of damn money at this bar.”

“More like you drink plenty of damn booze,” F.P. retorted. “It’ll be out of business before you know it if you keep taking advantage of the ‘bartenders drink free’ rule.”

Jughead was dutifully taking notes from his position on the stage.  As each man spoke, he seemed to be making tally marks in two columns.  As soon as Sweet Pea set down his beer to make a move towards F.P., though, he sighed loudly and stood back up. “I think that’ll be enough, gentlemen.  I will take a look at the Wyrm’s profit margins by shift, and we’ll see if any sort of free drink limit needs to be implemented.”

The whole bar erupted in groans, and a few people threw empty cups onto the stage.  Jughead just rolled his eyes and kicked them back into the crowd. “Any other items?”

“Yeah,” Sweet Pea spat, still fuming as he took another sip of his almost certainly free drink. “I think Fangs needs to stop bringing every preppy-ass boyfriend he meets to the Wyrm right away.”

“Dude, what the hell?” Fangs demanded. “I bring girls here too.”

“Yeah, and they’re all preppier than shit.”

“Well, I—”

“Hey!” Jughead snapped. “Sweet Pea, may I ask _why_ it’s such an issue to you who Fangs brings to the Wyrm?”

Sweet Pea shifted awkwardly, taking another sip of his drink and squaring his shoulders. “They make me uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” Jughead asked, trying to keep his voice even. “In what way do they make you _uncomfortable_?”

“I dunno.  Too—too preppy.”

“I see.  _Too preppy._ ” Jughead made a small note on his clipboard. “I’ll put that one down in the ‘to be discussed’ column.” He looked back up at the crowd like he’d rather be just about anywhere else. “Any other items?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do have one.” Fangs had jumped out of his seat, a determined look on his face. “I’m not sure how I feel about Blossom getting a red jacket.”

“What?” Cheryl asked, setting down her bright-red, fruity vodka drink and gesturing to the coat she was currently wearing. “This one?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“What argument can you possibly have against it?” Toni demanded. “Cheryl’s been a member for like five years.”

“Yeah, and in those five years, she’s been the only one to get a custom-made red jacket.  I just don’t see how that’s fair.”

“Oh,” Sweet Pea drawled. “So you’re saying that _you_ want a custom-made red jacket?  Makes sense.”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying,” he argued. “I’m saying it sets a precedent that we haven’t met since, and it’s not fair.”

“Makes sense.” Sweet Pea downed the rest of his drink. “You want a custom-made pink jacket.”

“Sweet Pea, I swear, I’ll—”

“And that’s enough,” Jughead cut him off. “Does anyone have any legitimate arguments against Cheryl’s red jacket?”

“I’m just saying,” Fangs said. “It’s a battle between aesthetics and tradition, and I, for one, always fall on the side of tradition.”

“Dude, you have a custom-made bisexual pride heart decal with your name on it on your bike.” Toni was shaking her head. “In what world does that stick to the tradition of a badass biker gang?”

“I said _enough_ ,” Jughead snapped. “On the basis of Fangs having jack-shit for an argument, I’m ruling that Cheryl keeps the red jacket.” He sat back down on his stool and pinched the bridge of his nose.  When he spoke again, his voice was low, like he didn’t actually want anyone to hear him. “Any other items?”

“You know what, if we’re arguing aesthetics versus tradition, I do have something I’ve been wanting to bring up for a while,” Toni said, still glaring at Fangs. “I move to abolish the silly-ass title, _Serpent King_.”

At that, the whole bar seemed to explode.  Serpents of every age were out of their seats arguing, and all that could be heard clearly over the chaos was F.P.  From his reclined position at the bar, he had broken down into a near-hysteric cackle.

“Relax!” Jughead shouted. “Would everybody just _relax_!”

Sweet Pea tossed his empty bottle into the trash and brought himself up to his full height.  “Just shut up, you morons!”

The bar went silent, and Jughead shot Sweet Pea a grateful look. “Back to the point—Toni, why do you want to abolish the title, Serpent King?”

“Because,” she replied, holding his stern gaze with an equally stern one of her own. “It just sounds ridiculous.  I mean, come on, Serpent King?”

“That’s not even a question of aesthetic versus tradition, though,” Fangs argued. “Serpent King has aesthetic and tradition on its side.”

“That doesn’t make it any less ridiculous,” Toni replied. “Let’s be real, who’s going to take someone called the Serpent King seriously?”

“I don’t know,” Betty said, speaking for the first time since the open forum began. “I take him pretty seriously.”

The room exploded again.

“Oh come on, Cooper,” Sweet Pea shouted. “Your vote doesn’t count!”

“Vote?” Toni demanded. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“No, no, _no_.” Jughead was out of his seat doing everything he could to take control of the crowd again. “We are absolutely _not_ taking a vote on this since no one has a good reason why we should get rid of the title.”

“I have a good reason.” The crackly voice made everyone snap to attention, and everyone’s heads slowly turned to the back of the bar.  Thomas Topaz.  _The_ Thomas Topaz had walked into the Whyte Wyrm.  No one had seen him enter the bar, but now that he was there, no one could look at anything else.

“And—um—what’s that, Thomas?” Jughead asked, barely able to get the words out without stuttering.

“I happen to agree with my granddaughter,” he said casually, sitting down on one of the few open bar stools. “It’s a silly title.  Not to mention, it’s not really a tradition so much as something F.P. came up with.”

Jughead’s jaw dropped, and for a moment, he completely lost the composure befitting the Serpent King. “Wait, what—Dad?”

F.P. shrugged and set down his beer. “I mean, our biggest rival gang was the Ghoulies—compared to that Serpent King sounds downright dignified.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Toni interrupted. “So you’re seriously telling me that Serpent King was literally just made up by the same guy who uses more snake puns than a literal snake.  Why does that not surprise me?”

The bar was filling with a din of shocked chatter, and Jughead once again had to shout to be heard over it.

“Hey, hey!  Everybody quiet!” His eyes roamed over the crowd as the bar finally quieted. “Thank you.  So, I guess maybe we do have cause for a vote.  All in favor of abolishing the title Serpent King?”

Every hand in the bar, save F.P., rose in unison.  Jughead’s eyes widened, and he didn’t even bother to count. “Well, it looks like that’s it, then.  The end of the Serpent King.” His voice was quiet as he set down his clipboard.

“So, um, what do we call you now?” Fangs asked, his voice having softened to match Jughead’s.

“I vote King Douche-Face,” Sweet Pea shouted, earning a slap upside the head from Toni.

“But King’s too formal,” F.P. added, somehow keeping a straight face. “How about Mr. Douche-Face?”

“Oh my god, I give up.” Jughead sat back down and grabbed his beer from the floor. “Just call me Jughead, you idiots.  Meeting adjourned.”

“But wait,” Fangs called. “What if we have more complaints for the open forum?”

“Save it,” Jughead replied. “If I have to listen to any more of your stupid complaints, you’ll be looking for a new Serpent King.”

“No we won’t,” Thomas said, his lips curving into a small smirk. “We’ll be looking for a new Mr. Douche-Face.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fic!!


End file.
